


The Camera Adds Four Inches

by escvelocity (einsames), Melle (likeitsstolen)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, at least a little bit inspired by the TSA America: Just Relax short, behind the scenes of the behind the scenes thing, how did it get there, seriously the man had a wild animal in his pants that day, sorta - Freeform, the SPN mockumentary, the authors regret nothing, the gray track pants of legend, this is pretty much just porn, why was Jensen packing so much heat that day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28335771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/einsames/pseuds/escvelocity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeitsstolen/pseuds/Melle
Summary: Just what was the "acting choice" behind those gray track pants? A little B roll for the behind-the-scenes mockumentary. Couldn't have done this without my co-conspirator. Merry Christmas to us!
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	The Camera Adds Four Inches

**Author's Note:**

> What we came up with after some supposition on WHY one would choose to do that in the mockumentary. All made up in our dirty, dirty minds. Gifs of this glorious moment below. Go forth into the fields and enjoy.
> 
> [Now with Chinese translation! ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542144) by [MilkTeaAthlete (Kidolle).](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kidolle/pseuds/MilkTeaAthlete)
> 
> Inspired by these:  
>   
>   
>   
> 

Misha tucked the small digital video camera under one arm and raised a fist to knock on Jensen's trailer, craning his head around to double-check for an audience. Once he heard a shout from inside, he clicked open the door and shuffled up the last steps and into the relative darkness.

"Hey, aren't we done with that?" Jensen said, peeking around from the kitchen area and seeing the camera under Misha's arm.  


"Had some rewrites." Misha grinned, eyes slipping down to Jensen's soft gray track pants and back up to where he was pouring himself a glass of the algae juice cleanse used as a prop earlier. "Director's prerogative. What is that shit anyway?"

Jensen glanced up and shrugged a shoulder. "Julie brought it over from craft services but what the hell."

Misha waited as Jensen took a sip and made a face. "Yeah, not so much," he held it out to Misha, who took the glass, eyes on Jensen as their fingers brushed. Misha brought the glass to his lips, eyes still locked, and took a deep drink. 

Jensen's eyes moved down to watch Misha's throat work as he swallowed. 

"S'not so bad," Misha said, tongue slipping out to swipe at his bottom lip. "Not the worst thing I've had in my mouth."

Jensen’s eyes tracked the movement, then he huffed.

"Bet not. So what are we doing?"

Misha leaned forward to plunk the glass on the kitchen island between them. "I have an idea."

"Famous last words," Jensen said, moving past Misha and further into the trailer. "Lay it on me."

Misha pointed for Jensen to sit in one of the pair of overstuffed recliners against the windows. "Take a seat."

So Jensen did. Misha smiled, nodding. 

"Good. Now, do you trust me?"

"Not in the slightest," Jensen replied quickly, then grinned wide to take the sting out of his words.

Misha cocked his head, dropped his chin and leveled his eyes. "Smart man."

He didn't miss the minute shiver in Jensen's grin. Misha's eyes scraped down Jensen's body to land squarely on his crotch. "Was going commando today an actor's choice?" he asked, his voice dropping a shade lower.

Jensen swallowed and glanced down at his lap. "Panty lines."

"Can't have those," Misha purred.

“Right,” said Jensen as his eyes once more dropped to Misha’s mouth. His eyes were rapidly becoming more pupil than green, and his breathing picked up a little.

“I just have a small suggestion,” said Misha as he moved closer. “Well, not small.”

“You’re damn right, not small. Wait, what?” He dragged his focus back up to Misha’s eyes as the other man leaned down.

“I just think it would be really something,” said Misha as he ran a fingertip down Jensen’s henley-covered stomach, “if you could give us a little more, um.” A fingertip turned into the back of his hand trailing down lower, toward the vee of Jensen’s legs before it lifted off. “A little more of a show.”

“Like more skin?” breathed Jensen. His eyes were now just a thin ring of green around pupils blown wide. "I dunno, man, won't that be too much? I mean, my parents could see this."

"Does your dad regularly watch your show to see if your dick is visible?"

Jensen shuddered. "Thanks for that mental image. God I hope not."

"Great. Then I'm talking about a bit of a tease. There will be gifs on everyone's dash the next morning. We're going for caricature here, not reality. Unless you really think I'm that much of an ass."

"Well, Jared's spot on, so jury's still out."

Misha snorted. "Point. So where were we… oh yes. Talking about your giant cock. Speaking of, maybe just film a little B roll, give them a hint. Show some big, meaty ankle, so to speak."

"I'm not showing them my dick, Misha."

"We're not showing them your dick, Jensen. Just a taste."

"A taste?"

Misha's face twitched as he suppressed a smile. "A taste." Then he bit his lower lip, eyes growing sharp. "But I think we have to raise the stakes, take it up a notch."

"A notch?" Jensen asked, voice wavering slightly. "Like how?"

Misha placed the camera carefully on the table next to Jensen's chair. 

"We're all showing a larger, overdone version of ourselves for this thing. Putting some distance between who we are…" he dropped to one knee not far from Jensen's chair, slowly gathering himself to kneel on the carpet. "And who the fans _think_ we are."

Misha caught the shift in Jensen's breathing and pushed into the moment, dropping the pretense. 

"Don't you want to, Jensen? Let them see you?" His voice had softened almost to a whisper, eyes hot as they dragged up Jensen’s body. He breathed for a moment, letting the question hang in the air. 

"Feel their eyes on you," he said, bracing his hands on Jensen's knees and rising to his feet to lean over him, mouth close to his ear. "Like a little caress?" One of Misha's hands moved above his knee, fingers tracing up the inside of his thigh. 

Jensen breathed out slow, a tremor moving up his spine. "Ye-yeah," he sighed. "Yeah." He cleared his throat, turned his face into Misha's, nuzzling his nose into the other man's stubble. 

"Good," Misha said quietly, turning into the moment and pressing his lips to Jensen's ear. "Let them see how much you enjoy it, see how good you are for me." 

Jensen moaned softly.

Misha knelt once again, holding Jensen's eyes, letting him see a bit of that banked fire within. His nimble fingers moved higher, tunneling under the edge of Jensen's shirt to the waistband of his track pants. "Make them want you?" He pulled at the waistband, fingers dipping to slide against the skin underneath. "Make them wonder, what is under there? What--” he rubbed against the soft skin of Jensen’s stomach, “--would it be like?" He curled his fingers in the direction of Jensen’s cock, drawing the waistband tight.

Jensen's eyes were locked onto Misha’s lips, a flush rising up from his neck. The sensation was intense, everything in Jensen reaching toward Misha’s touch.

Then, Misha leaned over and palmed the camera. He peered down into Jensen's lap, nodding. "Good. But we're going for 11 p.m. Cinemax, not 3 a.m. RedTube, so hold what you've got." He patted Jensen’s thigh and rose from his kneeling position abruptly.

Jensen turned wide, shocked eyes onto Misha’s. "Oh you son of a bitch," he ground out after a moment. "You're fucking with me."

"Not yet," Misha amended, licked his lips and winked. "Plenty of time, cowboy." 

Jensen chuckled. "So what are we doing, exactly? Now that I'm…" he looked down at the line of his half-hard cock through the thin material of his pants.

"Tumescent?" Misha questioned, focus turned to switching the camera on, fiddling with the controls. "Aroused?" He popped off the camera lens cover, checked the readout on the LCD screen and let his eyes slip back to catch on Jensen's. "Erect?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we'll do a voiceover, but you're talking about relaxing in your trailer. Flip your feet up, settle in a bit. Make sure we see that monster lurking in the shadows." Misha raised his eyebrows. "This is a horror show, you know."

Jensen took in a long, deep breath and let it out slow. "Right." He adjusted the drape of the thin material over his pelvis, fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. "Gotcha."

"We're going for maximum flop, here, since you're not at full… power. I'd need a bigger lens for that anyway, sooo..."

Jensen blew out, suppressing a laugh. "And another network, probably."

"Alright, ready when you are," Misha said. "First line is they tell you they have some questions. Then they'll ask who is the real you."

Jensen looked into the camera, nodding.

Jensen fidgeted, feigning discomfort. "Yeahp." He brought his arms down to waist level, knowing it would distract the viewer's gaze. "Hang on a sec," he said, a half-grin on his face. Then he reached down to flip up the footrest, pretending to adjust to a more comfortable position, cocking his hips to the side and bucking his hips.

Misha grinned behind the camera as the full effect resulted in Jensen's now half-hard cock flopping with the movement, resettling along his thigh. "I just like to kick back sometimes in my trailer," Jensen drawled and fidgeted with his shirt, pulling at it in mock modesty. 

"Do that again," Misha breathed. 

So Jensen braced his hands on the armrest and bucked again, dick moving obscenely under the thin gray fabric.

"Okay, that's good," Misha said softly. "I think we have enough." He popped the lens cap back on and poked at some buttons.

"That's it?" Jensen asked, face falling. 

"Oh that's all I needed for the film," Misha said, leaning over to plop the camera onto the chairside table again and dropping to his knees. "Now where were we?"

"I think we were talking about my dick." Jensen said, reaching down to crank the lever on the chair to lower the footrest. 

"And what a glorious dick it is," Misha smiled, reaching out to pull on the waistband of those track pants. Jensen pushed his hips up off the chair, letting Misha drag the pants down his legs to the floor, hardening cock revealed to the cooler air of the trailer.

Misha's hands skated up Jensen's bare thighs to grip his hips and pull him down lower in the seat.

"Did you lock the door?" Jensen asked, eyes darting to the door a few feet away. 

"Nope." 

"So anyone could just.."

"Yeah," Misha whispered, moving closer, fingers tracing along the ridges of Jensen's hip bones. "They could."

Fingertips traced the line of Jensen's dick softly, from the base to the head, and back to the skin of his pelvis, around the swell of his thigh. The flesh that had faded into a soft plumpness was fattening up again, filling with blood and warming as Misha's fingers skated around Jensen's skin. 

"I can lock it if you want," Misha said lowly, leaning down to press his lips to Jensen's knee. He shifted his head to look up to see Jensen's reaction, full lips mouthing at the delicate skin over bone.

"S'okay," Jensen said, shaking his head. The flush was back, pinking his cheeks as his plush lips parted. "Thinking this won't take long."

"Yeah?" Misha asked quietly, shuffling closer on his knees to place more kisses on Jensen's thigh now, eyes still turned up to watch the other man's face. 

"Yeah," Jensen said, barely above a whisper. He lifted a hand to card through Misha's dark hair, strands catching between his fingers. His other hand pressed down on his dick, gripping it loosely in his fist to scrape the sensitive head over the rough stubble of Misha's cheek. 

Misha moved his cheek against the soft flesh, turning to purse his lips against the plump head. Jensen slid along the seam, inhaling and blowing the air out again in a rush. The sight was amazing, something out of Jensen’s darkest fantasies. No matter how many times he'd had Misha's lips on his body, it always sent a hooking thrill into the core of him. 

Misha's lips opened, warm heat sliding over the head of his cock and the flat of his tongue teasing the bundle of nerves just beyond the ridge. A strong hand joined Jensen's on the base of his dick, gripping over his and sliding up to meet his lips. Misha's eyes bored into his as he took more of the length into that slick suction cranking up the shocks of pleasure arrowing toward his pelvis. 

Somewhere outside a door slammed, Jensen flinching and breath catching. Misha smirked around his mouthful, a low chuckle vibrating up Jensen's dick and sending more thrills up his spine.

"Shit," Jensen croaked, huffing a weak laugh. 

Misha pressed himself against the chair seat between Jensen's legs, rising up to redouble his efforts. Jensen pulled his hand away from their grip around his dick and slammed his head back against the back of the chair, palm falling to Misha's shoulder, fingers digging into the meat of muscle and pulling.

Misha bobbed his head along Jensen's shaft, hand gathering the spit to slick its way along the rest of his dick and corkscrewing up to meet his lips. 

"Fuck, Mish, really giving me the full tour, aint'cha?" Jensen gasped, tipping his chin to his chest.

Misha slid off his cock with a dirty pop and his grin was pure heat. The tip of his tongue traced the line of his top teeth before he slid his mouth down over Jensen's dick again, reaching out to grip Jensen's other hand and pressing it onto the top of his head. Once it settled there, he clamped his hand on top of it and let go to grip the bones of Jensen's hips and shove that fat cock as far down his throat as he could, fighting through the gag reflex and blowing out until it had blocked his airway.

Jensen pressed down with the hand on his head, gripping into Misha's hair and pushing his hips up, a broken groan pulling from deep in his lungs as sweat began to bead along his hairline. He pulled back a bit to push forward again, letting up on Misha's head long enough for him to get a breath of air and watching avidly as Misha locked eyes and sucked the head back in between his full lips.

Misha snaked the tip of his tongue down along the shaft, dragging his lips up and swallowing him down again. There wasn’t much he liked more than having this, the control over Jensen’s reactions, the ability to reduce this beautiful man to a writhing, sweating mess. He moaned a little at the sight of Jensen above him, at his mercy, and Jensen’s hips stuttered up to chase the vibration as he leaned back again.

The hand on Misha's shoulder dug in with a newfound strength, the muscles in Jensen's thighs tensing as he pushed into Misha's mouth, gritting out a broken groan. It was the soft slide of tongue along the ridge of his cockhead that pushed him through to orgasm and he panted through the first shattering waves, forcing his eyes open to watch the man below him suck and stroke him through the pleasure, deep blue eyes still locked on Jensen's face.

"That's, fuck," Jensen heaved, Misha's mouth dragging another wavering moan out of him, "That's so hot, Mish."

Then he noticed Misha's shoulder moving, and that while one hand was still on Jensen's dick, the other was obviously at work below where Jensen could see. The thought sent a kick to his now-sensitive dick, Misha's mouth still working along the head. Spikes of too much were beginning to twine with the tendrils of pleasure, so he pushed at Misha's head to let him go, leaning over to see that he had his pants open and pushed down, fisting his own cock.

Jensen reached out to grip Misha's cheek in his palm, turning his face up and pressing their lips together in a loose kiss. Misha moaned against Jensen's lips, huffing breath against him and surging forward again to claim his mouth as he fell over the edge and flinched with the first sharp jerk of pleasure. Jensen fisted his other hand in Misha's hair as he fell apart below him, chest heaving, hand wringing out the ropes of come that hit the foot of the chair between Jensen's legs. He tightened the grip on Misha's hair, dragging his face upward to glare down at him as Misha moaned low through the tail end of his orgasm, open eyes glazed and mouth slack.

"Did you just come on my chair?" Jensen asked gruffly, slipping a bit of Dean into his voice.

Misha laughed weakly, Jensen's tone sending a shiver up his spine. "Yeah, think so," he groaned, eyes alight. That grip on his hair kicked up the volume of the aftershocks and he sighed as another one ripped through the frayed ends of his nerves. "Big actor like you should be able to afford it. I can't even get into my trailer."

Then Misha grinned, laughing quietly as Jensen broke into a smile and pressed their foreheads together. "You're a menace." 

"Yeah," Misha said, sighing as Jensen let go of his hair and wrapped the hand around the side of his neck. "But you love me for it."


End file.
